Just You and Me
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: Sequel to: NO ONE FOR ME. Spock tries to deal with the emotional hold that Nathan's memories have over him, as the Doctor gains peace of mind for the first time.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Sequel to NO ONE FOR ME. I know that it's been a long while since I promised a sequel to **_**No One For Me**_**, but I watched **_**Star Trek: Into Darkness **_**movie tonight and I was re-inspired with this cross-over ark. Enjoy!**

_Spock tries to deal with the emotional hold that Nathan's memories have ver him, as the Doctor gains peace of mind for the first time._

**Just You & Me**  
**CHAPTER ONE**

Though Spock was part Vulcan and part Human, his mind was sound. It was his most reliable aspect of his being. It was his mind that held all his thoughts, and knowledge, its where the logic in the world lies. It was also where his connection with Nathan Scott manifested. Wthout his mind, Spock would not be Spock, he would be someone else.

_Memories are what make you, you_.

This statement couldn't be a truer fact. No matter how many manifestations of yourself there are in the world, it's these certain characteristics of the mind that makes beings individuals.

Spock had a connection with Nathan like he had with no other. This kind of connection is the bonds of the sworn oath between coupled Vulcan. This was the connection that his father and deceased mother had, what drew them together. He was the keeper of Nathan's mind, ever since their compatible minds connected—when Spock had fully immersed himself into Nathan's mind...and ultimately his soul. He had dove into the core of who the other man essentially was.

When Nathan had finally awoken after he had allowed Spock to help him retrieve his lock away memories, the Vulcan could feel the pain and turmoil that the man was feeling. It had been his fault, he was the one that convinced Nathan that he wasn't who he was truly meant to be with out them. He needed to fix this, he was at fault. So he had melded again. He delved into the young Doctor's mind once more and took that Pearl of emotion that formed with the memories, and drew it into himself.

The effects were previously unknown, but were currently presenting themselves to the Vulcan as time after the absorption wore on.

The initial rush of emotion that the Commander experienced overwhelmed him, causing physical side effects, particularly weakness in his knees as his mind dealt with the overload of foreign emotion. But after a period of concentration, in which Nathan slept unencumbered, Spock processed the other man's emotional reaction to the recurring memories. He was able to box them up and stow them away in their own little section in his mind.

And as his mind meld with Nathan continued to solidify, the restraint to look those emotions were forgotten.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM**

Nathan found that even since he boarded the _USS Enterprise_ that his life seemed to get all the more complicated. His childhood had been a traumatic one, but he had survived, by perseverance and belief and gumption—and sometimes but the roots of his teeth. All of those coming to the fore in his personality because of his first encounter with Leonard McCoy at fourteen.

He had given up hope by that time, but it had been renewed, his road in life opening up once more. Though he was slowly reaching his goal at the _Starfleet Academy_ he had found himself flagging, but when he met Haley James, he was energized once more. When the love of his life had stolen away with another man, he thought about all those times in his life when he was thrown over this ledge that would only lead to darkness.

He didn't look back twice.

Every episode in his childhood had sculpted the man he was today. Strong willed, intelligent, perseverant, instinctual, willingness to move forward, unencumbered by past baggage. Memories of these events—given back to him by Commander Spock—made him the man he would be for the rest of his life. The half Vulcan had given this Doctor a new perspective on all those past events—gave him a way to no longer second guess himself, to feel bleak, to feel discouraged, to feel that anger under the surface, overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, loneliness, self blame. Spock gave him the courage it took to be himself, to accept who he was.

That's why Nathan was not going to let the worry of being completely melded with Spock to consume his every thought, to underline his ever action and reaction. He freed himself of the burden, almost like it was a physical piece of luggage. Of course, the weeks following his release from Leonard's Medical Custody, the two seemed to be rather busy with their workload, and had not the time to speak.

But even without speaking, it was silently agreed upon, it seemed, that this complete meld was kept between just the two of them. Except for the fact that McCoy and Captain Kirk found out that their minds were compatible when Spock had felt his sickness with the Yellow Fever—that was the only reason that Nathan was alive today. It was because of the fact that Spock and his minds were connected, even when Nathan didn't know at the time. So he did not fear the connection that he and the First Officer had.

"...an...?!"

Nathan shook his head and looked up from the display screen in front of him to find Leonard peering down at him as he leaned on the console with his hip, a quizzical look on his handsome face.

"Hey," Nathan greeted the other man, sitting back in the chair.

McCoy chuckled softly. "Is it that interesting?"

Nathan furrowed his brows. "Is what?"

"That," McCoy peered down at the screen, reading, "'_The complete metamorphosis of the YF virus to the RBC and the WBC...' _Why are you ready that?" He turned back to the fellow Doctor.

Nathan looked a little embarrassed as he said, "Just studying,"

McCoy shook his head in exasperation. "Is that _all_ you _ever _do? You just work, and when you're not working, you're studying." Nathan started to protest. "If you keep this up, your going to burn out. Then what am I gonna do if I'm down a Doctor and there's a crisis? Either take a break, or I'm going to take you off duty,"

Nathan quickly zipped his lips. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't just an idle threat, Leonard really would take his off shift, and then a mark would go in his record. He couldn't stand having a black mark on his record, with such a ridiculous reason being because he liked to work too much, and he'd go crazy if he didn't have patient appointments to fill up his day.

McCoy smiled at him as he stood up. "Come on, I know just the thing!" He turned off the display and pulled Nathan up from the chair, and dragged him along.

Nathan had no choice but to follow as the Doctor put an arm around his shoulder, going the extra length to make sure that the man couldn't escape. It didn't matter about the fact that Leonard was a workaholic as much as he was.

He was grumping down at his feet when he really should of been watching where they were going, so he could at least prepare a semi-enthusiastic response. Serveral Officers were in the corridor with them, none rushing with work, but all leisurely. He wasn't sure he'd been this way before, though he might have, usually all the passageways looked similar. He saw a Blue Shirt crossing in the junction, and recognized the straight spine, dark hair, but most prominently, the pointed ears.

"Commander Spock?" Nathan called out before he could stop himself.

But the Commander had stopped before the Doctor called, had already started to turn as his mind felt the close proximity of his Melded Companion.

"Nathan," Spock said first, before he nodded to the other Doctor. "Dr. McCoy." As the pair stopped in front of him. He didn't need the Mind Meld between them to feel the anxiety coming from Nathan, his brow twitched indiscernibly at the man.

Nathan didn't need to see it, it was like he could feel the movement inside his head. _Run While You Can._ He tried to tell the Science Officer, whether the Vulcan heard or not, it was too late to know.

"Spock!" McCoy greeted the Commander with great enthusiasm. "You off Duty?"

"Yes,"

"Perfect," the Doctor got a sly look. "That mean's that you can joins us!"

Spock looked at Nathan once more, before he spoke. The man was warning him away for whatever reason, and what he was gathering from McCoy's look, the logic was sound. "I'm afraid that I cannot, Doctor. Though I am off-shift, I have to update the ship's log."

"That can wait, I'm sure." Leonard waved it off, with his free hand. "You can join Nathan and I."

"On the contrary—" Spock spied the gleam in his friend's eye, but it was too late. McCoy wrapped him free arm around the Vulcan's shoulder, securing him as firmly as Nathan. He continued walking, forcing both Officers along, to what destination, the pair were clueless.

Spock looked over McCoy's head at Nathan, who gave him a helpless one.

"Bones!"

McCoy pulled their small convoy to a stop as he waited for the only man who ever called him that, catch up. "Jim?" He asked.

"Hey," the Captain of the _Enterprise_ panted lightly, his hands on his hips as he surveyed their little group. "Where you guys headed? Somewhere fun, I hope."

"You're just in time, Jim." McCoy grinned back at his friend. "We were just heading for the holoroom," he informed the man, giving his two companions' shoulders a squeeze.

"Sweet! Can I come? You know I'm always game for the holoroom," he seemed to share the gleam in the Doctor's eyes.

The two 'prisoners' were not encouraged as they continued to the holoroom, their Captain now in tow. Nathan and Spock were made first to enter the room, behind them, Kirk and McCoy, who made sure that there was a time lock of one hour on the door, ensuring that the two work encased Officers had an hour of R 'n' R.

"So, what's the plan?" Kirk asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Ping-Pong." McCoy informed them, turning from the holo display by the door, as said Ping-Pong table materialized in the center of the room.

"Ping-Pong," Nathan repeated, but without much passion.

"Yes," Leonard told him. "Fun, yet competitive—so it's not boring."

"Explain, please." Spock inquired as to circular paddles appeared in McCoy and Kirk's hands as if solid.

"It's like table tennis," Kirk quickly outlined the game play.

"Intriguing," Spock said despite himself. "A physical battle with strategy and teamwork." He stepped to the opposite side of the net from Kirk and McCoy, his own paddle appearing in his hand.

That left Nathan, who had no other choice but to join the others, getting his own paddle.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun." Leonard assured.

"Let's just get this over with," Nathan muttered.

"Game match will be twenty," a small, hallow, white ball appeared in his free hand. "Alright," he bounced the ball off the table top a few times, as he and Kirk shared a determined look, already the two Senior Officers intending not to lose.

Nathan assumed the stance, the paddle out in front of himself, at the ready. Spock almost mirrored his stance. McCoy lightly tapped the ball, sending it over the net, it touch down and came at Nathan, he clapped it back, towards Kirk. Kirk's gaze locked in the ball, his lips parted as he prepared for the return, his arm drawn back. He slapped it back, the ball arching up, not bouncing off Nathan and Spock's side of the net, but instead sailing between the pair's heads. The ball flashed out of existence before it touched down on the floor.

1-0, team Nathan-Spock.

McCoy glared at his game partner. "What was that?"

"What! How do you expect to score when you treat the ball like an egg?!" Kirk demanded.

"The game just started! I was biding my time!"

"Whatever. Let's just get back into it."

The rest of the game was similar in manner. Kirk and McCoy had no teamwork cohesion at all. They got into each other's way, bumping into each other, taking each other's swings; Jim always seemed to put too much power behind his shots, and McCoy too little. Spock and Nathan were a complete opposite team; they were airtight. Their movements harmonized; they never got in the way of each other, they always knew who was going to hit which ball, and they never hit it too hard like Kirk. They even fainted; when the ball headed towards Nathan, it would be Spock that slapped the ball back with calculated accuracy, and likewise with Nathan, but his aim wasn't nearly as exact as the Vulcan's. In the end, it was 20-6, team Nathan-Spock.

McCoy and Kirk were sweating, glaring at each other. It had almost come to blows at a few times. Nathan and Spock silently waited for the two men to compose themselves.

"That was an excellent game," Spock responded, a triumphant look passing through his brown eyes.

Nathan couldn't help the smile as the Doctor and Captain turned the glares from each other to the other Doctor and Commander. The timer on the door beeped and disengaged.

"We had a great time," Nathan agreed as the table between them disappeared, the paddles along with it. "We should do it again." He wasn't sure he meant it, it was just something you say.

"Rematch!" Kirk declared, not ready to let it lie.

"Jim," McCoy sighed, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed it. "It's over, brother, they won, fair and square."

"But—" McCoy shook his head and the Captain hung his in defeat.

"Come on, Spock, let's get out of here before they change their minds." Nathan told the Vulcan.

Spock nodded. They door closed behind the pair and they were left in the hall.

"I'll see you later, Commander." Nathan said as he turned back down the hall, but not before he lightly clapped the Vulcan on the back.

Spock stumbled a step forward, but not because the force behind Nathan's pat. Nathan's touch, it jarred something loose inside Spock, one of the Memories that he'd squared away.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM-ce**

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	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: I was reading the novelisation of the Star Trek 2009 movie by ALAN DEAN FOSTER and you should too!**

**CHAPTER TWO **

Spock had made it back to his quarters. Not completely remembering the journey there. When the door closed behind him and the lights came on, he quickly went to his desk chair and sat before his knees gave beneath him. His breath was stressed as the memory continued to play in his vision. He was jumping in and out—from reality to Nathan's memory—experiencing it as if he had lived it himself.

_He was ten years old. He felt like he was going to throw-up; not from being sick, but fear. Ever since he discovered the dark truth to the secret that he shared with his father, that was usually all he felt. His father was at the dealership, while Dan was the owner, he did spend several hours a day, a few times a week, at the office. Because he was fearful to speak out of turn to his father or in front of the few others that he's met, he was a quiet boy, very observant. He saw an advertisement on television that the circus was coming to One Tree Hill this weekend, he wished badly to go. He knew other kids from the neighbourhood would be going, dragging their parents around for the day, eating hotdogs and cotton candy_—_because that was what normal children did. He knew that he wasn't normal, and he'd come to accept it...he just wanted to look. The grounds weren't that far from here, just a couple of blocks, and he knew that if he cut through a few yards, it would take even less time. He wasn't going to ride anything, he was even going in the grounds_—_he just wanted to _see_ it. So when his father went out, not long after, on nerves of frozen jell-o, he escaped from the house and joined the circus. His big eyes glowing with wonder he returned home, finding with relief that he wasn't out too long and his father's car wasn't in the driveway, he entered through the back kitchen door. His insides twisted with fright and terror, because sitting at the kitchen table and looking at him with a stone-cold gaze was his father. The car hadn't been in the driveway, because it was parked in the garage! His feet rooted to the floor, he couldn't move as he father stood and stalked towards him. He didn't scream_—_he'd learned long ago that it aggravated things_—_he couldn't even if he wanted to as his father saw red and he'd make sure that his son felt it. The beating was concentrated on the boy's back and this penetration was one of the more violent ones._

Spock gasped for breath as he re-emerged from Nathan's memory. The nape of his neck and hair at his temples were damp with perspiration—the moisture, he realized as his heart rate decelerated, that was caused by a potent fear. A fear that had felt so real to him, as if it had been his very own.

He was unsure of how to proceed. He tried to be logical about the situation. He should tell Nathan that he was experiencing his life history one moment at a time, then go directly to McCoy. His emotional state was slowly being compromised, and he should be immediately taken off-duty as Captain's First Officer. But his brain was being overridden by his heart. His logic was being dared by emotion. And his emotion said that he could deal with these events, these emotional occurrences, by himself—that he could still be a competent First Officer, while experiencing these recollections of the past.

His heart wrestled control from his brain, emotion overwhelmed logic.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM**

After Nathan got over the fact that he had been technically held hostage, he realized that he had actually had some fun. It was nice to do something other than work and study—not that he'd ever tell McCoy that. And what made it even better was to be around Spock. Ever since the Commander helped him get his memories back, he's been better than ever, he was the best version of himself that he could be.

When he made it back to his quarters, he found that he didn't feel lethargic enough to go to bed, or sit there and watch his holoscreen, instead he felt energetic and he needed to diminish the feeling if he was ever going to get enough sleep before his next shift. McCoy had been right about that too, he didn't want to burn himself out.

He changed into his workout clothes, before he left, and on the same deck as the holoroom, worked his energies on the workout equipment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done this. He was either on duty or studying up, he didn't have time for workouts. It wasn't long before his skin was beaded with sweat and his heart was pounding and his lung were burning, and he sat heavily on an empty bench, as his burning muscles cooled back down. He wasn't the only Officer present, but each of them was in their own little worlds.

Nathan was surprised by how unfit he'd become. Of course, his bout with the Yellow Fever had caused him to lose weight as well as muscle mass. But because McCoy had passed him for regular Duty work, he didn't think twice about it—when he clearly should have. What if there was an emergency—what if something like the Yellow Fever outbreak happened again, and his body wasn't strong enough to pull through it? He didn't want to die. He didn't want to be a useless doctor in a medical crisis. He didn't want to let Leonard down. And he didn't want to disappoint Spock. He wanted to be strong and he wanted to be relied on.

He decided then, as he headed back to his quarters for a shower and then bed, that when he had an hour or two to spare, he wasn't going to automatically log onto a console and study, but was going to go to the gym. He wanted his body to be as strong as his mind—it was the commonsense thing to do.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

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	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Finished reading the novelization of **_**STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS **_**by ALAN DEAN FOSTER**—**it's just as good as the movie!**

**CHAPTER THREE **—

Nathan stood at an angel to the Engineering Officer sitting on the exam table in front of him. He held the ensign's forearm lightly between his hands as he examined the contact burn that marred the otherwise olive-toned flesh. After deciding the severity of the scorch he released the arm and turned to the supply tray at his side. He picked up a rounded tube-shaped device that filled his palm and pressed the top down with a finger as he held it over the wound.

"A generalized Anaesthetic," he explained, "it will help with the direct pain of the wound. This works better than if I gave you a hypospray injection, because it had none of the undesired full-bodied side effects."

The ensign nodded, as he already started to feel the relief of the medication, the pained squint leaving his eyes.

After making sure that he covered all the wound, he turned back to the tray and replaced the spray device with a similar looking one. Again, he sprayed the wound.

He continued to explain as he worked. "This stuff will make sure that the burn doesn't get infected, and it'll help speed up the healing process." After spraying liberally, he set the spray aside and took a clean bandage from the tray, and proceeded in wrapping the four inch long and two inch wide burn—careful of making it too tight. After making sure it was secure, he looked up at the ensign. "You can go back to shift, Ensign—but I want you to come back if you feel discomfort or pain, alright?"

The ensign nodded his head. "Thank you, doctor." He replied with a grateful smile before jumping from the table and leaving the med bay via its big portal door.

Nathan glanced down briefly at his own blue Starfleet regulation Science Division shirt (so much different from his former Red shirt, something that Leonard had recently corrected—he was devoted to the sciences after all) before he returned to cleaning of the area. Never to leave things unfinished, he sat at an empty station and began to fill out a injury report on the ensign.

He'd only been on shift for two ours yet, and he already had a patient. If McCoy had been on duty at this med bay, he was sure to say that it signalled a busy day, maybe Nathan hadn't been on the job long enough to become superstitious.

"_Doctor_!" someone called for his attention.

He turned from the console as a med tech and nurse rushed through the portal, a hover bed between them. Nathan quickly forgot about the chart and rushed over to the new arrival. The bed's current occupant was a Yellow shirt. Laid on his side, he was strapped in and struggling. Conscious, but the instant that Nathan saw his glazed and unfocused gaze, he knew disorientated.

"He collapsed in the hall," the nurse explained. "When we arrived, he was stumbling around, talking nonsense."

He ran a quick scan and glanced at the first reading he got. Fever. Nearly higher than he expected it to be.

"Officer, can you hear me? You're in the med bay, you collapsed. I'm Dr. Scott, do you know who I am?" Nathan bent so that he was eye-level and spoke clearly to the man, but it was clear that he didn't care where he was or who was speaking to him; he was in a completely different world for all Nathan could guess. "Alright," Nathan stood back up and addressed the nurse. "Administer a light sedative. We can't help him if he fights us."

"Yes, doctor." The nurse went to a got a hyposray injector with the right dosage; the med tech standing off to the side, out of the way but close if he was needed. The nurse returned and pressed the hypo to the man's neck, they heard the release and it took less than a minute for his struggles to slow before comply stopping as he was chemically knocked-out.

"Okay, lets move him to the bed." Nathan ordered. This time the nurse stepped aside and the med tech helped Nathan move the hover bed over the to exam table, before they released the restraints and transferred the man. Now Nathan committed him to a more thorough scan. "Let's get him some fluids," he said, noting the dehydrations. "And some antibiotics to help him fight the fever. I want a blood sample on record, and let's see of we can confirm whether this is viral or overwork."

The nurse nodded and went to get the fluids and antibiotics. Nathan took a sample of the officer's blood and put the sample in a cooling unit, before he had the med tech help him transfer the man to a private cubicle. He hoped that it wasn't viral, and just a fact that the officer had overworked himself.

"Excuse me, doctor?"

Nathan left the cubicle as the nurse started to administer the meds, to find another ensign waiting, holding an injured wrist in her other hand. Nathan found himself internally raising a brow, he supposed there was some merit to McCoy's fallacy after all.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM**

Spock was at his scheduled break-time, the time corresponding with the hunger his body felt. The commissary was filled with the quiet din of other Starfleet Officers taking their lunch, as he seated himself at an empty table, his strictly vegetarian meal in front of him. With a solid utensil, he deposited a small morsel into his mouth, and as he chewed found himself in different settings.

_The crash was loud and startled him. He heart racing, he barely stopped himself from dropping the dish gripped in his wet fingers. He quickly set it in the rack before turning around. "Dad?" He called out tentatively. He didn't know what the noise was and he was fearful to find out. He was tempted to turn back to the dishes, but he was too scared _not_ to know what the crash meant, even if the curiosity resulted in a beating. His steps were quiet as he came from the kitchen and into the living room; empty. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a similar noise again; upstairs. Stomach in his throat, he forced himself to go up the steps. He made it to the landing, continued on until he found himself in front of his room. The area wasn't spotless as it should have been, how he had left it. The usually spotless room was now the designated area of a moved night table and a pried loose vent_—_how dad found it, the boy would never know. He felt a pain in his chest as he heart skipped in alarm. His father stood there, holding the precious item that he had secreted there after one of his few unauthorized solo ventures into the outside world. The obsolete medical primer that he had acquired from un-honest means. His father said nothing, staring him in the eyes as he opened it to the middle of the spine, and commenced ripping it in half. A strangled and pained noise left his throat as he watched helpless, as whatever makeshift feelings of hope and dreams for a future that the dear item had coaxed from his dying soul, was torn apart with it_. _And all he was left with was what he had always felt as his will turned bleak and futile_—_this feeling was worse than any previous or future beating could instil in him._

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

Spock blinked clear the feelings of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him, to find McCoy leaning across the table at him, his gaze filled with concern and annoyance—more so of the latter.

"I apologize, doctor." His voice and expression quickly composed as he looked back at the man who had suddenly and unsolicitedly deposited himself across from him. "I was in the process of prioritizing what preparation needed to be done when we arrived at our destination at the small colonized mining moon of the Class-M Planet Lyssia." He was economical with the truth.

"Right," McCoy said in a tone that clearly stated he 'believed' the Science Officer as he sat back in his claimed chair. "And did you?"

"Yes," McCoy silently watched him. "What was it that you wanted?"

"Oh," he murmured, waving it off. "Nothing important."

"If you don't mind, doctor." The Vulcan gestured to his meal.

"By all means,"

Spock stared at him for a moment before he returned to his meal. His appetite was gone—both from Nathan's memory and McCoy's unwelcome visit—but he ate nevertheless. It would be senseless to deny himself the required energy because of feelings that weren't his own.

Once he was finished, he excused himself without preamble, what an irritation that the doctor had showed up as he was having one of Nathan's memories. If anyone aboard the _Enterprise _could discover the trouble he was having, other than Nathan, that man would be Leonard McCoy. He needed to be more careful in the foreseeable future.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

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	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR **

When they arrived in orbit around the colonized moon, two shuttlecrafts departed from the Enterprise. One carried the Captain, Science Officer and Chief Engineer planet-side to make sure the operation was in running order. The other shuttle departed empty save the pilot, but returned to the mother ship with five occupants more several times. It was left to Doctors Scott and McCoy to give complete check-up to all the workers from the colony.

Coming off a busy 12-hour shift of treating mostly minor injuries, Nathan had an hour to eat and decompress from the unpredictable repercussions of being a doctor. Being still, to moving rapidly, to being on his feet, to remaining hunched over for indeterminate amounts of time. He wasn't complaining, it was part of being a doctor—he was just glad that he had started callisthenics otherwise he might have been run into the ground. So he took half-an-hour catnap, and took twenty-minutes to eat, before heading back to the medical bay refreshed. It also didn't hurt that Leonard would be there as well, it was always a comfort to work alongside a friend.

There were four shuttle drop-offs. Five workers each trip, twenty in total; seventeen men, three women. Each doctor would get two patients from each batch, and whomever finished the complete body exam and workup, would take the last in the batch. The two doctors and few nurses were like a well oiled machine. Even though they had hand-scanners and full-body scanners, a physical exam by touch was also required—though the med equipment in this stardate was well advanced, sometimes you discover things better when you use your own hands. All twenty patients were in relatively good health, but few weren't getting enough vitamins and minerals, others work exhausted and had strained muscles.

All were released from the med bay and free to roam the _Enterprise,_ with the exception of being barred from the bridge, engineering, cargo hold the transporter room, and shuttle bay (until it was time for them to go back moon-side). After updating his patients' files, he was on his way to check on his first patient he'd received on his last shift before he got swept away by incoming injuries—he hoped by now that the fever had gone down, otherwise he was in for an even longer shift—when an urgent voice cracked over the bay pickup.

_"Dr. McCoy!"_

Nathan stopped and glanced back towards McCoy, whose expression was marred with a grimace. Nathan had learned long away that nothing good came when a voice came over the med bay's pickup unit.

"This is McCoy." The MCO replied instantly, alert.

_"There vas an explosion at the station and shuttle vill be arriving hot momentarily, injured vill be rushed your way." Lt. Chekov spoke quickly but clearly._

"Time?"

"_ETA 12-min."_

"How many?" he asked, trying to get as much information as he could before everyone was rushed in at once.

"_Five_—_One critical."_ McCoy opened his mouth, but the young Russian on the pickup wasn't finished. "_Three vorkers from ze station_—_the keptin and Commander Spock."_

"What?!" Nathan and McCoy exclaimed at the same time, but for different reasons—of course Leonard's first concern was the Captain (who always seemed to be there when a explosion happened), and Nathan's first thought would always be for the young Vulcan.

McCoy quickly shook his concern off, and leapt back into doctor-mode, Nathan not far behind. "Whose critical?" he demanded, tense.

"_One of ze vorkers." Chekov said._

He couldn't help but feel a sliver of relief that his friends and the Captain of the _Enterprise_ was not currently in the process of dying. "Send the critical, Kirk, and Spock, here, to med bay one. And send the other two workers to Dr. Jhest at med bay two." McCoy ordered.

_Chekov answered, "Ves, sir." And signed off the pickup._

McCoy instantly jumped into prep action for the in-coming traumas, and Nathan rushed to assist—the fevered officer was going to have to wait; a med tech was present at his side, watching his stats, and if anything went amiss, they'd inform Dr. Scott. McCoy sent Nurse Chapel off to prep the Operation Room they'd no doubt need with their critical patient—and four minutes later, their critical patient arrived through the portal on a hover-bed, Kirk and Spock—the former limping, the latter stalking—in behind.

"Okay, let's see what we got." Leonard muttered.

Nathan and McCoy instantly saw to the critical officer, while a couple med techs flocked to the two most Senior Officers. The unconscious woman at first glance, looked as bad as her condition probably was. Nathan scanned her with the hand-held, and McCoy snapped on sterilized gloves and examined her wounds. Her skin was covered in dusted debris, blood, and burns.

Nathan read out the results on the screen. "Blood pressure is rapidly decreasing, heart rate barely detectable. Head wound—concussion present. Her body's going into shock!"

"First, second, and third degree burns. Lacerations and penetrating wounds present. Got some broken bones, too. Let's move her the bed!" McCoy called.

They transferred her over and the bed automatically register clearer vitals. As Nathan, wearing sterilized gloves as well, started to cut away her coverall's top, and a Nurse was clearing away the blood and dirt so they had a better view to see where all the blood was coming from, when the screen on the wall above the bed started flashing red and beeping, warning them that she was going to into cardiac arrest.

"Damnit!" McCoy cursed. "Start compressions!" He told Nathan, who instantly put his hands together and pumped her chest as McCoy quickly found and attached electrodes to the right side of her chest, and the lower left side of her torso. "I'm going to shock her, stand back." Nathan jumped back as McCoy yelled _clear_! The woman's body arched as electricity travelled between the small pads, there was a blip of the screen before she continued to flatline, Nathan continued compressions before _clear_! was called and he backed off, the woman arced on the table before going flat again, her heart mirroring the posture. They went seven more rounds, but her heart only beat when Nathan was pounding on her chest, or electricity passed through.

Nathan was out of breath, his arms trembling, his muscles feeling like jelly, but he wouldn't stop, he couldn't.

"Dr. Scott," McCoy called across to him, but Nathan didn't seem to hear.

She couldn't just die, she was young, probably only a few years older than himself.

"Nathan!" Leonard put no more volume but more command into his name as the MCO came to the other side of the table, and gave his subordinate and friend a firm shake. "She's gone, man, she's gone."

"But..." Nathan said helplessly as McCoy gently pulled him again from the deceased officer.

McCoy gradually led him away from the bed, and sat the young doctor down before his knees gave out on him. He kept a firm but soft hold on his shoulders, comforting but grounding him at the same time. "She lost, she must have had internal bleeding. If we had been at the station we might have been able to do more, it was the shuttle ride here that sealed her fate. There was nothing more we could have done,"

Nathan knew Leonard was right, but he couldn't stop the feeling that he could have done more, he _could_ have!

McCoy recognized that look. He used to get that look all the time in his first years as a doctor, sometimes he still got it. It would never truly go away. It was the curse of the doctor. Feeling as if you could have done more, always done more, but knowing that there wasn't. It made you feel useless and worthless. And the shit truth of it all was that as a doctor you inevitably would lose people, and the more you lost, the more you realize that at the end of the day—you save more people than you lose. And it does get better, if only marginally. Leonard realized that Nathan wasn't as crass as he was...yet.

McCoy squeezed his shoulders one last time. "Stay here, and I'll check on Kirk and Spock."

He started to turn by Nathan shook his head, "No." He said. The MCO looked back at him as he stood, taking a deep breath as he discarded the soiled gloves, sanitized, and donned a clean pair. "Thank you for the concern—Leonard. But I'm alright. You make sure Captain Kirk isn't maimed and I'll do the same with Commander Spock."

McCoy eyed him for a long moment, before he nodded. Discarding, sterilizing, and donning new gloves. Both doctors headed towards their injured friends, in cubicles next to each other as Nurse Chapel returned and clean up the poorly deceased officer.

The med tech seeing to the Captain was getting nowhere with the stubborn man and was all too happy to leave when he saw the MCO heading his way. The doctor pulled the privacy curtain and eyed his friend. The young blond was covered in dusted debris, with minimal blood. He had a cut on his forehead, which doc quickly cleaned, nothing was broken, but he found at gash on the officer's calf, which he cleaned and wrapped.

"Can I go now?" Kirk pouted.

McCoy smirked as he deadpanned, "Let me think about it."

Spock was more accommodating to the med tech assigned to him, but not by much. Nathan dismissed the man as he looked over the Vulcan.

"How're you feeling, Commander?" Nathan asked, scanning him first, before he started to assess his injuries with a physical examination, after the Science Officer removed his shirt.

"In the current situation, I am feeling acceptable." Spock replied, bare-chested.

Nathan felt the back of his head, down his neck, across his shoulders and along his ribs to his hips and there he paused.

"Is something the matter, doctor?" the Vulcan inquired.

"Are you feeling any discomfort in your left hip?" Nathan asked, still bent at the waist as he examined said area, where he noted a dark mark on the pastel skin.

After a moment of consideration, he spoke, "Not particularly. May I asked why?"

"Tell me if this hurts," Nathan instructed instead, and gently pressed on the mark that was 4mm in width/3cm in length. He looked up at the man.

"Slightly," he replied.

Nathan scanned the area more thoroughly this time, and looked at the results with interest, and maybe slight concern. There wasn't any blood, so he hadn't thought that it was a laceration. It was dark in colour so he thought it was just an oddly shaped bruise, but it turned out, there was something there, under the first few layers of skin. He stood back up.

"Okay. It looks like you have a foreign object under your skin, I'm going to see if I can take it out. Could you lie on your side for me?" Nathan asked, preparing a tray and sterilized field in the cubicle.

After Spock complied, Nathan set up in front of him and disinfected the area, before he sprayed it with a numbing agent. After making sure the nerves were thoroughly numbed, he made a small incision _next_ to the object. Wiping away the greenish blood that welled from the opening, he held the lips of the cut open and with a pair of forceps removed the foreign object. He didn't study it too closely at the moment. He left it on the tray and irrigated the wound to both cleanse and wash out any other debris, before he sealed the 5cm cut with a solution and bandaged it.

"Finished," Nathan informed the Vulcan, but Spock already knew because he'd been watching the doctor closely through the whole procedure—or rather the parts when he wasn't enraptured by another of Nathan's continuing memories. He helped the man sit up without pulling the wound, and Nathan finished his examination (which resulted in finding no further injuries), before he cleaned the object and doctor and officer examined it further.

"It appears to be a piece of piping that was at the blast site at the moon station." Spock concluded after a moment of examining the sliver of metal that had the colouring of pewter.

Nathan seemed to agree—he also had a theory as to how it ended up in the Vulcan's body without blood. "When the explosion happened, the shard must have pierced you at just the right speed and angle to draw no blood—just like a splinter. If it just goes under a few layers of skin and was heated, it could have sealed itself right in! Adrenaline pumping through your body, you don't much notice a small injury like this." He finally put the sliver away and looked back at the Vulcan, he didn't try to fight the relief he felt. "If you'd put off an examination, it could have gotten infected, or worse still, the metal could have started to poison your blood."

"It was your keen eyes, doctor." Spock affirmed. "A less experienced doctor may have look it over as a bruise due to the colouring."

Nathan found himself smiling at the Science Officer. After losing the woman not half-an-hour ago, he felt respite from that feeling that he could have done more—because he realized he just _did _do more. He'd saved Spock from the possibility of a worse injury.

"I'll give you something for the pain, and then you can go back on duty with the Captain, after Dr. McCoy gives him the go-ahead. But no strenuous activity—no lifting heavy things, no working out, I'd rather you didn't run either, and no reaching for high places as well—at least for the next 48-hours. Alright?" Nathan raised a brow.

"Yes, Dr. Scott." Spock nodded, his expression sober as he climbed to his feet. He slipped his uniform shirt back on before he left Nathan in the cubicle and went to find Kirk.

As Nathan cleaned the area, he found himself wrapping the metallic shard and stowing it in his pant pocket instead of discarding it along with other soiled materials that had been used during Spock's procedure.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

y


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE **

Spock ignored the slight discomfort in his side by the wound as he finished the readout he was reviewing in his Officer's quarters.

Chief Engineering Officer Montgomery Scott (no relation to Dr. Nathan Scott) had discovered what had been the cause of the explosion at the moon base station. It seemed that a worker got careless, and didn't double-check his work, and a conduit wasn't closed properly, causing a spark, to ignite a pocket of flammable gas in area—which resulted in four injured and one dead, as well as time consuming repair work and paper work (the latter of which was the Captain's hindrance).

He turned off the screen and with nothing to no longer occupy his mind, the memory that he experienced in the med bay as Nathan touched him, returned to his mind.

_He felt excitement fill his heart so completely that it felt as if his heart were about to explode. His father had been invited to a Big Client's Great-Grand-Daughter's Wedding_—

Spock found his fists clenched tightly in his lap as he tried to fight the memory.

The small wound did not hurt as much as Nathan had predicted, in fact, except for a tightness in his side, and the occasional twinge, it was as if it weren't there. If it hadn't been for Nathan, he might not have enough realized that the danger he could have been in. He was thankful to have known the man, but taking on his memories was taking a toll on the young Vulcan. He had believed that with each memory, his ability to process the emotional transference would improve, but in fact, he was sure that though on the outside he was calm and collected for outsiders to perceive, on the inside, he was slowly deteriorating.

Of everything, this was the one that Spock would have most want to experience. Of the brief flashes that he had witnessed when he retrieved the gem of all of Nathan's memories, this was the one that he knew had given the man such hope and courage to be where he was now, and as much as the Vulcan wanted to experience that moment, it was going too far. Already he knew more intimate details about the doctor that even his previous wife had known—that his idol, his hero—didn't know. Every time he had one of Nathan's memories, if felt like a betrayal.

He needed to stop them. He had immense determination and self-discipline at his disposal. He would take a chapter out of the doctor's book (as it were), and commence at this very moment. Taking a deep and even breath, the half-Vulcan centered everything, silenced the metaphorical clamour inside, and delved inside himself.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM **

Nathan lay on his bed, the lights dimmed so he was in the semi-darkness, songs playing in the space from the wall unit with just enough volume to drown out the ringing silence (_Head of the Herd_'s _By This Time Tomorrow)_. He was coming down from the adrenaline that had held him steady during their helpless treatment to the woman who had come in critical, and during the procedure on Spock. He had shoved the emotion that he had felt before the loss of the woman could completely hit him, and being with Commander Spock had helped with—as it always seemed to do.

He fingered that piece of pewter coloured piping that he pulled from his pocket, which he had in turn pulled from Spock. The piece of durasteel was still warm from being against his thigh for a few hours, but he could still picture it being warm from the Science Officer's blood. He didn't know why he kept it, he should have disposed of it as was procedure—if McCoy found out, he'd get into trouble for sure. Probably not in it enough to get a mark on his record, but the CMO had a knack for finding interesting ways of dishing out discipline to subordinates.

That in itself would have given him enough motivation to disintegrate it in the med bay disposal unit, if weren't for the fact that he needed something to remind him of this shift. He been on his dream assignment, the _Enterprise_, for close to a year now, and this was the first death of a patient that he had dealt with. He needed this sliver to remind him of the lose of a patient he had experienced, and the save of Spock not to derail him of his duty and commitment.

As he continued to fiddle with the sharp piece, _Raine Mada_'s _SOS _playing, he closed his eyes, and thought on the half-Vulcan Commander.

He hadn't let himself worry about the consequences for the first time in his life. Since the very age he could understand the concept of the consequences of his actions, every move had been a calculated one. Especially around Dan. Of course his perception on the concept of life had altered along with his gaining experience of the outside world—the _Real_ world.

When he was a kid, it was, _will this end with his dad 'happening' to him?_ But when he was thrust into the world at sixteen, it became, _will this get me noticed?_ Being noticed had never been a good thing for him. But when he'd joined Star Fleet, being noticed wasn't such a bad thing, as long as it pertained to being doctor-wise, and _not_ his past. His Record was sealed after all. But because of him, he was having that DOMINO feeling that lead into Spock's life. That because of him, the pillars of stability in the Vulcan's life were coming crashing down.

He looked back to all the times that he had encountered the other man since the Meld in the med cubicle. At first, he found nothing, but as he drew closer to the present he started to notice the little things that were off. The Vulcan's will was very strong, and not unhuman. Though his exterior was calm, collective, and logical... it was not what he had discovered in those doe eyes. Pain. Fear. They were a mirror of the most basic emotions that he had felt when he was in Dan's clutches.

He paused, and thought back to the last time that he had seen Spock, during the med procedure, how he had glanced at the man just for a second to see how he was doing, and find a blank stare—it was there and gone as soon as he had spotted it—and thought that he was just projecting his own feelings. But the more he thought about it all, the more he drew towards a different conclusion—the longer he had been aboard the _Enterprise_ the more he had studied Vulcan physiology and culture—and things started to fall into place.

Could it be? Emotional Transference? When Spock had Mind Melded again with him in the med cubicle, he taken them, all of them—all those deep and dark emotions that was so close to drowning Nathan's soul in black water.

The song switched to _The Neighbourhood'_s _Afraid_ as he jumped his feet, the shard clenched in his fist as he raced from his quarters to find Spock at the revelation—and the consequences of it all.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

y


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: Sorry for the wait on a chapter update. I've been pretty meh on writing lately, and I'm still super stuck on how to continue "Firefly"**—**so angry at myself right now. Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Nathan raced through the corridors as fast as if the _Enterprise_ was being attacked by a Klingon Warbird and the Medical Bay was filling up with injured Officers, there was a no faster sprint. He didn't even register the looks being sent his way by the said Officers as he ran passed them. When he arrived at the Science Officer's quarters, he rang the pickup unit next to the door. When he immediately didn't get a response from the Officer, Panic started to form in his chest.

He had expressly told the Vulcan immediately after the procedure to return to his quarters for the rest of his shift. Medical Opinion could Rule over even that of the Captain's, even in dire situations. Spock was usually a stickler for the Rules—the Mind Meld with Nathan seemed to be the exception. So when the Doctor rang several more time and received no answer, he did what he was supposed to do in a emergency... He inserted that Medical Override Code into the keypad. It chirped, and the door opened accordingly.

Nathan rushed inside the immaculately ordered room, not registering the door closing behind him. He eyes instantly landed on Spock. The Vulcan was sitting at his desk, still. His back was straight and his eyes were closed. But he was so still, it seemed like he was hardly breathing. Fear spiked inside of Nathan. Was it his wound? Did something go wrong with the procedure and he not know? Was there internal bleeding that had occurred _after _he had issued a final scan of the injury?

"Spock!" Nathan rushed over to the inert man, his hand grabbing the soiled, blue clad shoulder. This couldn't be happen—

Everything turned black.

Nathan looked to Spock, but the Vulcan was no longer at the end of his palm. In fact, his hand wasn't reached out in front of him either. Nor, was his found, his arm, feet, legs, torso... he could no longer, _see_, nor _feel, _his body. It was as if the didn't exist. But he could _see_, he was sure that he could. He could see the endless darkness.

"Spock?" He called out in fear because he had been with the man just moments before. What was happening?

"_Nathan_?" came the surprised answer from the endless black. It was like a pin dropping in utter silence to his ears.

"Spock?" he called, louder this time, as he searched around. It seemed that he could hear as well, and it felt like he was moving too. "What's happened?"

"_How are you here_?" Spock asked, but it seemed rhetorical. There was silence as he seemed to be thinking it over—Nathan could almost _hear_ it. As the Doctor held a breath he wasn't even sure he had or needed. "_No. That should not be possible. No Meld has transpired this deeply in Vulcan History."_ There was another pause, and this time, the words were directed at him. "_Nathan, you must leave here. Now."_

"What are you talking about? Where is _here_? Where are you?" Nathan called out as he searched for the Officer, but all the was, was black shadows.

"_Now, Doctor."_ Spock ordered, but Nathan didn't budge from this fearful place.

"No." He refused, and he could physically feel the frustration coming from all directions. "Not until you tell me what's happening."

Spock's voice was tense when next he spoke. "_You are in my mind."_

"What? How is that Possible?" He was still looking for the other man, but it seemed to no avail. "Where are you?" He demanded.

"_I am all around you. Our minds seemed to have a strong Meld_—_stronger than anything documented before. My Father and Mother, a Vulcan and Human, were barely able to do the most basic Mind Meld, I am uninformed how this is possible. By all means, it should not be..."_

"All the times that you've gone into my mind, that's what caused all this?"

"_Yes. I was deep in Meditation. Because of our connection... are you in physical contact with me at this moment?"_ He queried.

"Yeah." Nathan remembered, all his fear about this place forgotten for the moment. "I came because I realized what was happening after you Melded with me again when I woke from regaining my Memories!"

_"That does_—"

"What were you thinking!" Nathan shouted, his voice seemingly swallowed by the darkness. "Why would you do something like that? I know something's happening to you."

The silence seemed to speak volumes before Spock finally spoke. "_I was the one the pressured you to let me retrieve your Memories. It was my error that you ended up in the Medical Bay. I could feel all the emotions emitting from you as you relived them again. It was something that I was required to do."_

Nathan couldn't help but be confused. "What was it exactly that you did?"

_"I took away the potent emotion and torment of the Memories, and pulled them into myself. I theorized that I would have been able to process it, and it would dissipate from my mind. But it appears that I have incorrect by that hypothesis. The emotion never egressed, instead they grew and formed into the Memories they were established from."_

"So... You've been reliving _all_ of my Memories?" His voiced sounded pained.

"_Yes."_ The Vulcan stated simply.

This time, it was Nathan who was silent for a extended moment as he processed what he had been told. "Why didn't you tell me?" Was the first thing he voiced. He was upset, majorly so. He felt fear, anger, sadness, betrayal—even sympathy—but most of all, he felt shame and embarrassment. The way that he had been violated, and treated like garbage and worthless by the people who were supposed to love and accept him most—to know that the Vulcan had witnessed each _happening,_ seeing him vulnerable and weak like that... He didn't want to think about that now, not here. So he focused on that instead.

"_I believed that I would be able to solve the problem on my own."_ Spock clarified.

"And did you?" He asked next.

"_... It seems to have gotten worse the more time that has passed."_ He admitted.

Nathan didn't have to think about it, before he spoke. "You need to give them back."

"_I will not."_ He spoke instantly. "_I am at fault. I forced the memories back into you, if it had not been for me_—"

"It's not your fault, Spock. I wanted my Memories back, not matter the consequences. Your were right when you said _Memories Make You, You._ If I hadn't gone through... _that_ childhood, I might not be the man I am today—right here and now. They're not your Memories to relieve, they're **mine. **So you will do as I ask, and return them to me."

"_That is unacceptable, Dr. Scott."_ The Science Officer denied him formally, and almost instantly, Nathan could feel the Vulcan's presence surrounding him, start to vanish—along with the Darkness.

"No!" Nathan shouted, fighting the force that was both pushing and pulling him from the half-Vulcan's mind. It was tough and tiring, but the Star Fleet Doctor refused to leave. Spock was stubborn, but Nathan gave new meaning to the word, he had to—it was one of the only reasons he had survived his haunted childhood. He pushed deeper into the other man's mind, and the darkness grew darker evermore, and though he felt fear prick at him, he continued to fight, searching for his Stolen Emotions. He refused to let Spock steal that chip from his shoulders, no matter the burden. He would not allow anyone else to live through what he had been through.

Though Nathan was stubborn, Spock was more skilled at this sort of thing. He put up blocks, detours, doors, anything to stop the Doctor from traveling further into his mind and locating that bead of emotion. But the Mind Meld worked both ways, and Nathan evaded the obstacles before they could completely cut him off or shove him out. Until he found it, against all of Spock's best efforts.

A sinister bead of red and black.

He hesitated a moment so short that it barely registered, before he threw himself at the bead before Spock could find another way to cut him off. The last thing that he remembered was burning fire.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

**y**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN **

The Med Bay was finally restored to its former calm and healing environment after the excitement of the explosion on the moon base. Despite the one death that had occurred, all else had gone well. McCoy had sent Nathan back to his quarters, the little resistance that the younger man put up, spoke volumes to the CMO. After the Captain and Science Officer had been cleared, Leonard reviewed their charts, and checked upon Nathan's previous ailing patient. The Officer was doing well, he was no longer dehydrated and his fever was notching down as the minutes passed.

So when he was finally leaning back in his padded chair behind his desk, and his computer alerted him to the use of Nathan's Medical Override Code, destination Hobgoblin's quarters—he instantly left his office and Med Bay, and headed towards his friend's quarters via a lift ride and brisk walk.

Upon arriving, he entered his own Code into the pickup and was chirped inside. The dread that he had previously felt, was not unfounded when it came to this pair.

"Nathan! Spock!" McCoy raced to the two men. Both lay crumpled on the floor at the desk, a chair between them and a several feet separating them. He came to Nathan's side first, and checked for a pulse, ignoring the blood trails leading from his nostrils and ears. He found a pulse quickly, to his relief it was strong if a little quick. He shifted over to the Vulcan, finding him in the same condition—Pulse strong and quick, greenish blood trailing from his nose and pointed ears. "Medteam to Commander Spock's quarters, immediately! Two Officer down!" He commanded to the comm. device attached to his blue shirt. "What were you two fools into this time?" He muttered to the two unconscious men in worry.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM **

Nathan gasped awake in fear, his short bangs pasted to his forehead with sweat. Though he was disoriented, he knew almost instantly where he was. It was the place that he considered his home after nearly a year; the _Enterprise._ The Med Bay, at the moment, a med cubicle, to be more specific. It was only re-enforced, as his mentor and hero stepped into his line of sight.

Relief flooded McCoy's features as he looked down at his conscious subordinate and friend. "Glad to see you're finally awake," Nathan looked just as relieved, and before Leonard could react, the younger man bolted upright and hugged the craggily man.

"I'm so happy to see you," Nathan told him with conviction.

Leonard hugged him back briefly before he pulled back and his expression had done a complete turn around. "What the hell do you two think you were doing, huh?" He demanded.

Nathan blinked in surprise, knowing that he really shouldn't be. But he wasn't sure what to say, so instead he asked the first thing on his mind. "Spock? Is he alright?"

"He's fine." McCoy sighed harshly through his nostrils as he glared at the young doctor. "Now answer my question."

Nathan sighed as well, running his fingers tiredly through his dark hair. He had a insistent headache and his heart beat heavy as the weight of his returned Memory Emotions rested once again on his shoulders—a burden that was his alone to carry. He was sick of secrets. So he did answer his mentor's question the best that he could... Without revealing all the harsh realities of his past childhood.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM **

Leonard had been quiet the whole time that Nathan told his and Spock's tale—from the beginning. He could see the blue-eyed man's jaw clenched, refusing to interrupt; determined to see this through to the end without interrupting to insert his opinions loudly. Nathan feared that the most about the man, because if he wasn't being vociferous, then there was no telling what the Doctor was thinking.

When Nathan finished, McCoy stayed silent still as he stared at the other man with an intense gaze. Nathan swallowed under his influence. He didn't know what to think when the CMO turned on his heel and left the booth, the sentiment intensified when he returned not with one, but two people in tow behind him. In his Yellow Star Fleet Regulation Captain's Shirt, and matching blond hair and boyish-looks, Captain Kirk. And the ever solemn First Officer, Commander Spock.

"What the hell is wrong with the both of you?" Leonard instantly exploded at the two involved parties. "First the Connection during the Yellow Fever, then Mind Meld with Lost Memories, then I find out the you stole the Memory Emotions, and now what happened tonight?!"

"Bones... Dr. McCoy!" Kirk interrupted his CMO before he could continue or his face could get any redder. "You needed to breathe; yelling at them isn't going to solve anything." He turned to Nathan and Spock who had sober expressions on their faces as their Captain addressed them. "You know this whole thing is inappropriate, in the first place—I'm not even going to get started on the fact that you've been keeping it _secret_. The Connection, I'm letting go. You can't control that, and if you two didn't have it, then Dr. Scott could have died from the Yellow Fever. And I'm even willing to let the memory retrieval go as well. But stealing Scott's Emotions! Spock? You knew that it was wrong, yet you did it anyway. Scott, though I agree with you taking it back, you went about it the wrong way. You should have informed us both—" he gestured to McCoy and himself "—and it should have been executed under supervision so something like the both of you passing out, and bleeding from your noses and ears' didn't happen." Though Kirk was young and had a childish personality, when it came down to it, he was a Star Fleet Captain.

"Who knew how badly this could have gone," McCoy inserted, though his voice was calmer, there was still an edge to it. "You're both lucky that it worked out the way that it did."

"You are correct," Spock spoke first, his voice its usual monotone of logic. "It was of my belief that I would be able to correct the results of my actions, I was incorrect in this assumption. I apologize, Captain, Doctor."

"Commander," it seemed like Kirk wanted to exhale heavily. "You should have reported this immediately," he reprimanded his First Officer. "I'm going to have to report this, you know that."

"Yes, Captain."

"Captain Kirk?" Nathan finally spoke up, and the blond looked over to the man still seated on the bed.

"Yes?" He acknowledged.

Nathan straightened his shoulders. "You can't put all the blame onto Commander Spock. It's my fault, it was my memories that did this. He was just trying to lesson the emotional burden of my returned memories."

"Emotional burden? What was so harsh in you memories that made Spock believe that he had to take away your emotional memory?" It was McCoy who spoke, his voice a little gentler as he realized there was a little more to this. Both he and the Captain waited.

Nathan was silent for a long moment, as he looked at Spock next to him. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to bare his worst nightmare and fear and to these two men? The answer seemed to be yes as he took a deep breath and told them haltingly. Spock wasn't the only one involved in this; it was his fault as well.

"My—my childhood was a difficult one." He started, he was already reliving them as he spoke; almost like opening the wound anew. These were the first people that he was willingly telling. "All I remember of my mother is that she was a drunk before she abandoned me and my father. When my mother left, my dad started to abuse me—beat me. That started when I was five." He clarified, his green-grey gaze already turned away. "He started to touch me inappropriately then too, but it got worse when I turned eight. When I was thirteen the touching all but stopped, but the beatings continued—nearly every day." His arms crossed over his chest self-consciously, hugging himself. "When I turned sixteen, I was bigger and stronger, so I fought back. I got him imprisoned for life, and legally deemed an adult. And here I am,"

Silence. That was all there was when he finished speaking. Of course, it was the short version, but it spoke volumes in itself. When the ringing in his ears got to be too much, he dreaded looking up, but he did it anyway. He didn't look at Spock, the Vulcan already knew Nathan's life story, in intimate detail. No, he looked to his friend, mentor, and hero; and his Captain. Both were pale and sickened by what they heard; they had sympathy in their gazes (which Nathan was relieved to see instead of Pity—he didn't want to be pitied.) Of course everyones' childhood is different, some more harsher than others, like his own; but it was what it was, he couldn't change it—but he didn't let it drag him down either.

"Nathan..." McCoy's voice cracked. "Nathan," he tried again. "My wedding?"

Arms still hugging him, Nathan nodded as he found the courage to look him in the eye. "Yes. I was fourteen," he told the older man. "That was one of the best days of my life. Because of you, I wanted to become a doctor. You're the reason why I'm here, whether you know it or not, you're one of the reasons why I was able to fight back."

"I'm sorry!" Leonard blurted.

"What for?" Nathan asked cautiously.

"You looked so normal that day, just a happy kid. But I should have known, I should have seen it. I'm a doctor for Christ sake! I have basic psychiatric knowledge. I missed it. I could've helped you!" He confessed.

"You can't blame yourself, Leonard." Nathan told him firmly. "It was your Wedding Day. Even if you did notice, and you confronted me... I would've been too scared to even tell you, it wouldn't have done me any good. You helped another way. I saw how happy you were; one of the worlds top doctors, marrying what could have been one of the prettiest woman. _You_ were what I wanted to be."

"He's right, Bones." Kirk squeezed his best-friend's shoulder in comfort. "You couldn't have done anything better than what you did, which was be yourself." He nodded at Nathan, his feeling towards the man hadn't changed, if anything, his respect for the man grew. Everyone's childhood was difficult in their own way; some crueller than other's. Though his own hadn't been as horrible as Scott's, he lived under his deceased father's shadow, and hard rule of a mean step-dad. "Though I won't go into detail, this incident will still need to be logged." He told the pair.

Nathan was relieved, what he said wouldn't leave this booth. It wouldn't go on record. And maybe, just maybe, the weight on his shoulders lessened.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

_I'm thinking only one more chapter? _

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	8. Epilogue!

**a/n: So here it is, the final chapter. I hope that you like the ending!**

**EPILOGUE**

After Kirk left the Med Bay, though he had thoughts of sympathy towards the new Doctor, his thought were more towards how he was going to report this to Star Fleet Command. He didn't want an direct line of communication to the Board, so when he arrived at his Ready Room he decided on a brief mention of the Connection that the two Officers had in his Captain's Log, before writing a report on the several incidents between the Vulcan and Human—with exemption of Scott's personal childhood experience that played its part—instead he wrote the emotional shock of his memories returning in force, but they both had been cleared by CMO McCoy.

Kirk uploaded the Report, and sat back in his chair. That was that, at least he hoped it was.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

McCoy didn't want to release either man from Medical Hold, but he couldn't find a reason to keep either of them, so he was forced to let them go. Of course both were barred from next shift. Neither Vulcan nor Doctor would ever admit it, but they were exhausted—Mind Meld Wars were not something taken lightly by either party.

Nathan walked next to Spock in silence. He hoped that when Kirk sent in his report, the _Enterprise_ wasn't called back to Earth, and he wasn't forced to depart. He was sure that space would help to not dive consciously or unconsciously into each others mind, but he didn't want to leave the ship. This was where he wanted to be, this was his home. They entered the lift together, and exited on the same floor. They were about to go their separate ways when Nathan stopped the Vulcan.

"Spock?" Nathan asked. Spock stopped and turned to the other man with a silently raised brow. He was fearful about knowing, but he knew needed to know, just how much did Spock relive of his emotional turmoil?

"Not every one." Spock answered truthfully. "Some caught me by surprise and I was unable to block them, but when they came and I was ready, I was able to push them from my mind."

Nathan nodded. He hesitated, "Did you... did you ever come across the Wedding that Leonard was talking about?"

"Yes, but it was one of the Memories that I was able to block."

Nathan furrowed his brows in surprise. "Really? That was one of my best Memories, why would you want to block out that, and not any of my more—daunting—ones?"

"The ones that I could not fight off were grave," Spock agreed. "And though the Wedding was one of your more happier Emotions, I knew that that Memories was one of your more privately held. As you told Dr. McCoy, it was where you drew the power and confidence to become what you are today, that is not something that you wish to share lightly with the others. Respectively, I blocked it so I would not intrude upon you further than I have already had."

Nathan smiled sombrely at the half-Vulcan. Though Spock had knowingly stolen something very private from him, he did what he could to give Nathan the most dignity and respect. "Would you like," he asked tentatively, "to see it?"

Spock was silent as he pierced Nathan with his brown gaze. Though he could see that the man was hesitant, he knew that this was something that he wanted. He nodded. "If you wish to share it with me,"

Nathan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Alright, then."

This time, they decided go to Nathan's quarters instead—it seemed that all the incidents happened in Spock's quarters, so they wanted to change the environment.

Nathan sat on the edge of his bed, and Spock pulled the chair from the desk and sat in front of him.

"How does this work?" Nathan asked.

"Close your eyes," Spock instructed. "And think about the Wedding. I will do the rest."

Nathan nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, thinking back on one of his most happiest and inspirational memory. Spock took his hand and closed his own eyes, concentrating. It was simple Memory Share; this was something that even his father and mother had done.

_He felt excitement fill his heart so completely that it felt as if his heart were about to explode. His father had been invited to a Big Client's Great-Grand-Daughter's Wedding. It didn't matter to the fourteen-year-old that he didn't know these people, because he'd get to go out, watch this extravagant affair, wear a suit, eat cake—and because of where they were, his father couldn't touch him. _

_Suited as sharply as any fourteen-year-old could have been, they arrived at the McCoy-James Chapel Wedding at eleven in the afternoon. It was a beautiful affair, if small. There was many different kinds of people there; old, young and in-between—but none as young as him it seemed. His father sat him in one of the pews, while he went off into the crowd to chat with a false smile that only he knew about. The boy was fine with that though, he got to watch. _

_Before the ceremony started, he picked up snippets of conversation from the other guests'. The reason why he seemed to be the only kid at the Wedding was because it appeared there was a bout of chicken pocks going around in school, and the kids seemed to have caught it, much to all the parents' dismay (part of the reason the gathering was so small). As much as he would have loved to be able to talk and play with kids that were his own age, he was already overwhelmed as it was._

_It wasn't long before the ceremony started and everyone took their seats—but not Nathan. The Bride's Great-Grandfather, the one that had invited Dan, had grabbed him, and dragged him behind the doors to the waiting line of bridesmaids. He was confused and scared, but after the old man explained to him that he was to walk the rings down the isle, it lessoned. He was handed a small, blue silk pillow with the rings sitting on top, and before he knew it, the doors opened and he was urged out in front of the bridesmaids to walk down the isle._

_Nathan had never been more nervous before in his life. All eyes seemed to be on him and he could feel Dan's extra hot; if he messed this up in anyway there would be an extra-harsh beating from him when they got home. So he swallowed down his nerves, straightened his back and shoulders, chin in the air, eyes straight ahead, and walked down the isle with a confidence that was new to him._

_Halfway down, the bridesmaids followed, three pretty woman in salmon coloured dresses. At the front, on a raised platform, stood the Minister, several groomsmen and the Groom himself. The man was young, tall, and broad-shouldered in his black tuxedo, short dark hair and piercing blue eyes. "Hey, kid. Great job," Who smiled at him when he arrived at the front, and stood with the groomsmen. Nathan smiled tentatively back, his cheeks flushed. The bridesmaids arrived, and then the organ started to play and the Bride walked down the isle, all eyes on her, in her white gown as she arrived at the alter._

_Nathan watched closely and listened carefully to the Minister, waiting for his part. When it was asked for the rings, Nathan held out the pillow and McCoy grinned at him as he took them. He felt proud—he was helping them commit to a love that was so unlike his mother and father's that the young man couldn't even seem to fathom._

_After they kissed, it was sealed. And then it was off to the Reception._

_Speeches were made, toasts' had, pictures taken, dinner eaten, the cake cut, and the dancing. Dan felt confident enough to leave him alone and go mingle, and that was how he found himself admiring McCoy. The man was young and handsome, he was a successful doctor, and had a beautiful wife. His life could not have been more rainbow perfect. That was what Nathan wanted his life to be like; he wanted to be happy and confident, doing something that he loved, with someone that he loved, who felt the same about him._

_It was on this day that he chose the path of his future, etched it in stone, unable to take it back. _

_Leonard McCoy had become his hero, and he was determined to have the same outcome in life, not to be trapped in a life of fear and suffering with his father until he decided that he wasn't worth it anymore and killed him. It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when._

When Nathan opened his eyes again, and looked at Spock, he couldn't help but notice the single tear track traced down his cheek. He smiled, his own face was wet as well. He was glad that he decided to do this_—_after all the fear and hurt that the Vulcan witnessed, he deserved to see at least one happy thing.

**ST09-OTH - JYaM -ce**

_Hope you liked it!_

_It's possible that I may do another sequel, but it'd be a very long time before that could happen, so don't get your hopes up._

_Please, Review! :)_

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